


Life and Death

by Oneshotshipper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hades and Persephone, Kidnapping, Mythology - Freeform, Think steampunk mythology, all kinds of weapons and stuff, but i tried to make everything fit as closely as possible, but still kinda ancient style, i have no regard for time, i try to include as many heroes as possible, mercykill - Freeform, others are made up, really a bastardization of mythology, reaper's edgy flower, some are based off gods, some of this will diverge from myths sorry, the Omnics were the Titans, this was supposed to be a oneshot guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneshotshipper/pseuds/Oneshotshipper
Summary: Reaper is the God of Death and the Underworld, while Mercy is one of life. Death decides he does not want to be alone any longer and takes Life from her world of brightness and sunlight to stay with him. Overwatch retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I've had this idea stirring for a long while for this pairing and couldn't help myself. Hope I do it justice! Just a general heads up, I've changed some continuity of things in Greek mythology to fit the lore/characters from Overwatch, so if you are a mythology purist, please look away! Also, just to spread awareness Hades in myth was not really that much of a bad guy, and was one of the most noblest guys in the stories - generally chill unless people fucked up. He was also not the God of Death (Thanatos was), but to fit Reaper well...Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy and I am sinking further into this fandom every day :)

Before the reign of the Gods, humans lived in a constant state of misery and war. Conflict used to be the way of humanity under the rule of the Omnics; mysterious mechanical beings who terrorized humans with their advanced weaponry and technology. Not all were evil, but many of the Omnics cared only for destruction and devastation upon the earth. Had they persisted, humans would have become an extinct species.

Jack Morrison had been named by a human family, raised hidden from the Omnics because of his unique abilities. For it was his destiny to lead the group that would defeat the Omnics and restore peace to their world. Soldier became Morrison’s divine name, as he had the heart and soul of a warrior. He and five of his closest friends and comrades led the battle against the Omnics; Reyes, Amari, Liao, Wilhelm, and Lindholm. All six of the brave heroes reclaimed their rightful place of divine rule and were victorious in the Omnic War.

Liao had fallen in the war however, their dying wish for their group of Gods - Overwatch, to split rule of different realms fairly between its members. And that was what Morrison decided, as he was unanimously chosen over Gabriel Reyes to become the chief god in their new order. He took the realm of the skies, for his ambitions and hopes were as high as it. Torbjörn Lindholm would serve as the chief mechanic and blacksmith for the entire pantheon of the Gods. He became Overwatch’s finest and most talented provider of arms. Ana Amari, for her contributions, would be designated as an alchemist, and have the greatest influence in the middle earth with humans; rejuvenation and medicine. Reinhardt took control of the realm of the oceans; for he was as strong and as unrelenting as its waves.

And as for the final founding hero. Gabriel Reyes ended up stuck in the realm of the dead, as he was a fierce and deadly warrior in the Omnic War; expert in death and killing itself. While the rest of the new Gods rejoiced and had grand parties over their victories against the Omnics, Reyes over the centuries had become a shadowy version of his previous self. No longer did he laugh with his brothers and sisters-in arms. Reyes did not venture into the sunlight unless it was absolutely necessary. As humanity thrived under Overwatch (and as their numbers grew with more gods), Reyes withered. He became reclusive in the Underworld, the gruesome responsibility of dealing with the dead physically transforming him into a creature of the night. He wore black robes and a skull mask covered his once-handsome face, reflecting the death he surrounded himself with.

And most of all, he despised his former friend Morrison. He was jealous of the Soldier and all the love that mortals had in their heart for him, and the fact that he had been named as supreme god. The Overwatch Gods ruled in their sunlight, while he rotted under the surface. He had once attempted, many years ago, to usurp Soldier and take his place as the leader of Overwatch. It had failed, and left scars on both of them, neither trusting the other ever again. Reyes’ plot had failed and he became even more of an outcast to all of them, mistrusted and excluded. His hated only grew, for he was truly alone and miserable.

It was after his attempted betrayal that mortals took to a divine name for him. They called him _Reaper._

* * *

 

“Can you even believe it, Angela?” Symmetra asked, completely bent out of shape and annoyed one bright, sunny, summer day. “One of these days, I will just put Junkrat in his place.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” replied the golden-haired goddess, not sparing her poor friend much attention as she turned to gather various herbs growing in the green grass, her pale arms stained with a bit of dirt. “You are opposing forces after all. Order and chaos.” It seemed every time she turned to gossip to the other goddess, it was always about her feud with Junkrat, the god of disorder. Angela stood, herbs, flowers, and other plant parts placed into her basket on her arm. It was a hot day, and the goddess of healing and life, Mercy, or Angela, as her friends called her, entertained the thought of later going for a swim. Even though she supposed her very proper, strict friend would not join her. As she tended to turn playful in the water and splash around a little bit. Perhaps, Tracer, goddess of fun, peace, and socialness would join her later if she could find her. The goddess was always zipping around somewhere, faster than any mortal.

“He was not meant for greatness,” Symmetra said primly, brushing imaginary dirt off her garb as she watched Mercy. “But thank you for listening to me.”

“It is no trouble at all,” Mercy replied with a kind smile, shifting her basket on her hip. Her hair had become messy from the day’s exertion, a few strands managing to find its way out of her ponytail. Angela held back a chuckle as she noticed Symmetra’s bothered glance. She smoothed it down a bit with her free hand, careful to not knock the laurels out of her hair. “I could use a friend out here with me while I work.” Mercy valued herself above all as a healing goddess, more concerned with working with Ana in medicine than anything else.

“Speaking of a friend…” Symmetra ventured, giving her a sly smile. “I did in fact see you with talking to Genji the other day. What have you to say about him?”

“He was nice,” Angela replied securely, fighting the blush that threatened to rise in her cheeks. “He told me that I was beautiful. So charming I would have to say.”

“And what else?”

“…Nothing. That was it.” And it was what Angela feared the most. For most of her existence, she had been worshiped for her care, kindness, and beauty. Flattering to say the least, when human doctors invoked both her and Ana’s name. But…she was more than that, and valued her intelligence more than her appearance. She worked tirelessly, often visiting Torbjörn in his workshop, trying to develop new technology like the wings on her back to help humans. She worked to stop people from getting sick and to heal their wounds if she happened to be nearby. But because she looked angelic, she was worshipped as an angel by the mortals.

Symmetra merely sighed, shaking her head. “God of frivolous pursuits should be his title. I heard he used to be quite the gentleman with women.” She glanced around to make sure no one was looking before she leaned in to whisper into Angela’s ear. “He’s nice, but you really don’t have to rush with any suitors,” she advised to Angela, both as a friend and another woman. “Don’t settle, Angela.” She warned.

“But he _is_ very nice. Very.” Mercy weakly replied. Many gods, even before Symmetra had talked of introducing Mercy and Genji. “His brother is too. I suppose.” She busied herself with arranging the herbs in her basket, categorizing them by color and effect. “Hanzo himself was the one to introduce me. You know their fight? He wanted to finally make things right with him.”

Symmetra only stared. “And what do you like about him? Truly? Besides him being _nice_?”

Angela glared at the other woman, giving a huff of defeat. “Well, I do not know him enough to make a judgment.” She admitted, and turned to walk away so she could avoid this nonsense of a conversation.

“Then why would you ever consider marrying him?”

“Goodness, Satya!” She exclaimed, whirling back around and in disbelief. “Who said a word about us being married?” She had healed Genji once, coming to his aid once he and his brother had fought, but she had not personally been introduced until recently. They had practically just met!

“Why, it is the talk everywhere!” Symmetra exclaimed with a teasing smile. “Is it true?”

“No!” she said, outraged. “Of course not! I’ve spoken to him for only a few hours.”

“You may want to tell him that. In order to restore a semblance of order,” she replied knowingly. “He was quite interested in getting to know you a little more.” And Angela went quiet at that, considering Symmetra’s words and what she wanted. Genji was a good choice, a powerful god in his own right. He was honorable, strong, and brave, and, Angela really was not getting any younger. Immortal she was, but perhaps it was time to settle down a little bit and have a partner and friend. Genji would be a good spouse to anyone… But for her? Would he be a good suitor or husband for her?

“We will see,” Angela said noncommittally.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Mercy,” Symmetra said with a slight bow of her head. “I do have to be off soon.” The two goddesses spoke once more, and walked back to a small cottage in the middle of the open field. It was where Mercy was currently staying at the moment, as it was filled with all sorts of equipment suitable to her work. Ana was supposed to be visiting later, as the two of them had become close as well once Angela became friends with her daughter, Pharah. She was like a mother to Angela as well, wise and smart and both of them helped each other in their studies to improve the condition of humanity.

“Thank you for accompanying me back,” she said to Symmetra with a friendly smile, stopping at the entrance to the home. While Mercy liked to socialize with her friends, she was a bit of a recluse of herself sometimes, hurrying and eager to return to her work.

The other goddess replied, “I will see you later, okay?” Mercy nodded and waved goodbye as Symmetra started off in the other direction. “Don’t forget, Angela!” She reminded carefully, “You must make time for yourself and take care of yourself as you do everyone else.” _You deserve to be happy and selfish sometimes too_. She, along with many of her other female friends; Pharah, Tracer, and Mei had all told her similar things as well. But she could not really understand it, not when there was so much work to do!

“Will do!” She replied, having no intention on changing her daily routine. Work, work, work. Then relax for at least a little while. Once Symmetra was out of sight, she shut the door and proceeded to delicately dump the contents of her basket on the examination table. She wiped the dirt off her white tunic, before she grabbed her mortar and pestle. Classic, but yet effective. She did not want to get too far without Ana, but Angela proceeded to grind up a few of her herbs, recording her findings of their texture and weight.

It was around midday when she felt a bit tired, and glanced back outdoors. The sun was at its highest point, and Mercy decided it was time for that swim she desired earlier. She left her basket there and walked back through the meadow and out to the nearby forest. It really was a beautiful, carefree place, always warm and temperate. When Mercy was in high spirits, it was if life itself grew from where she walked; dead plants rejuvenated by her powers. She had attempted to study resurrection itself on higher beings, but had only attempted it a few times, as it was unstable at best.

Angela followed the stream, sun’s rays warming her body as she stepped to find the widest part of the river, where she could wade up to her knees and enjoy the cool water. She found it, smiling to herself as she climbed down, flowers blooming at her feet and birds and butterflies surreally surrounding the area.

It was lovely.

And if Angela was honest with herself, a dissatisfied frown coming over her face for a brief moment, it was a bit boring. She sighed, wading into the water slowly, not seeing the flowers that had previously just grown wilt in a matter of seconds. It really was the same thing day after day, even when she studied with Ana. She could heal people, travel around the world if she wished, or even follow Pharah into wars and battles and fly _high_ and help people. But it still felt monotonous, as if she was missing something. She really, for a moment considered going for Genji, for at least she would not be as heartbreakingly lonely as she felt sometimes. She had many friends and admirers, but Angela, really deep down, craved for love and companionship, rather than just worship and friendlessness.

“What am I to do?” She said to no one in particular. Perhaps, she would go to Soldier. Not today or maybe not even tomorrow. She would ask to see Genji again, and maybe something would come of it. Maybe she would be happy. Truly happy. She leaned over in order to splash some water against her forehead, and she suddenly had a sensation of being watched. She quickly straightened and looked around curiously. “Hello?” Mercy called out suspiciously, wondering if it was Tracer and she was trying to startle her into falling in the stream again. She noticed the dead flowers, and took a wary step back towards the shore. It felt cold all of a sudden, as if the sky had darkened without warning.

But when Mercy looked back down into the water, for a split second, it was not her own. Where her reflection should have been, it was a dark figure, a flash of something white within the dark, a deep whisper, before it was gone completely. She scrambled out of the water quickly, thoughts passing through her mind wondering if she was going mad. She risked another glance back and saw everything was fine again, and she was looking back into her own startled reflection. “Most odd…” she muttered warily, stepping out and kneeling to study the flowers that looked like they had died a most magnificent death, causing sorrow to swell within her unexpectedly. She picked them up carefully, examining them closely in her hands. The once vibrant reds and blues of the flowers had faded to nearly a smoky black; and the flowers themselves were shriveled and shrunken in disfigurement. If she so desired, she could better utilize a staff she had created in order to breathe life back into them. Having a bad feeling, Angela quickly turned to leave, walking much quicker than she normally would, sparing cautionary glances back as she returned home.

_Mercy…_

A logical answer would be it was just her imagination or the wind, or perhaps a combination of the both.

_Mercy…_

But she swore she heard her name whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

_What business do you have with me, Reyes? You know you aren’t welcome up here._

_Not everything’s about you, golden boy. Not this time._

_What do you want then? Planning another coup?_

_Believe it not, I’m not always yearning for your demise, Morrison. Sometimes. But not today._

_It’s not my fault you decided to play the part of the bad guy, Reaper._

_I deal with the dead. I am death. It’s kinda my gig by default, isn’t it? But I’m forced to come to you because I know Amari would never talk with me._

_Wonder why. What makes you think I won’t just turn you back to the Underworld?_

_Because you’re Soldier. Noble, true, and just. And you still think of me as a brother. Your mistake. Weak. But it’s you. You will hear me out no matter what I’ve done, even if you know what I really am._

_…What do you want?_

_A wife._

_You… want a wife. You?_

_Contrary to popular belief, I don’t particularly enjoy rotting below in isolation. It’s rather… grim._

_I see. But a wife? Why come to me?_

_You hate me, and I hate you. But you are the leader after all._

_I didn’t once. We used to be friends, Gabriel. You were my brother in all but blood._

_Ah. There’s that sentiment. Afraid I can’t say the same._

_Cut to the chase._

_I came to you because I know Amari would sooner rip me apart herself than let me get anywhere near her._

_Who? It’s not… Pharah is it? Tell me you don’t want her daughter as your consort._

_No. The other one._

_…Mercy? She’s her daughter by association._

_Exactly. If I choose anyone, it has to be her._

_Would there be any chance of you telling me your true motivations?_

_Have I ever?_

_Fair point. Reyes… It is your business, and it is out of my jurisdiction anyway. Mercy is my friend and family too. Beautiful, kind, and brilliant most of all._

_I know that._

_I want you to be happy as you can be nowadays. Even after all you’ve done. But I wish the best for her too. I don’t want-_

_Damn it Jack, I’m not going to hurt her._

_I can tell that. Somehow. But Ana will not. She’d have my head if I gave you permission. She’s protective of both of them._

_Do I look like I’ll give a damn at what she’ll do? This is important to me, Morrison._

_I know. But… I’m sorry. I really am, Reyes. You’ll have to do this on your own._

_. . ._

_Mercy. Angela. She’s a scientist and a doctor at heart, you know. Just like some of the most talented mortals around. Inspires them and encourages life._

_I know that._

_And your complete opposite._

_That too._

_Think. Would the Goddess of Life really do well in the Underworld?_

_Dammit! If you won’t help me, then I’ll take my leave._

_I am helping. Have you ever… tried talking to her at least?_

_No. She would fear me, and for good reason. And besides, she would never willingly approach me had I appeared before her._

_Do you love her? Be honest with me for once in your life._

_I think as much as I can. Yes._

_. . . She likes flowers. Herbs. Medicinal plants. She likes to study them. You might make good use of that. Come out your darkness and back to the light._

_No promises._

_I can’t give you my permission, but I can give you my hope._

_Joy._

_I don’t wish you pain, Gabriel. Maybe a wife, even if it’s not her… would do you good._

_It has to be her._

* * *

Angela studied the withered flowers back in the cottage she was lodged at. She examined the black stems and roots, writing her findings down. These flowers usually had no medical purpose, but yet the goddess always knew they made for a very beautiful decoration. Once finished, she carefully set them down on the table, and grabbed her prepared staff. Mercy had no trouble in resurrecting plants, but as she attempted to revive them, there was no affect upon them. Even with all her powers amplified by the staff, they remained dull and dead. A most troubling development, and she wondered what it exactly could mean. Something was wrong with these plants, she realized. Something or someone had done this, and her curiosity would not be sated until she discovered its causes.

Taking her parchment and staff with her, Mercy left her cottage, having at least some time before Ana would come to visit her. Ana often got lonely, with Pharah not having a lot of time to be with her mother. Mercy loved them both like they were her own family. She sped back towards her place in the forest, retracing her steps until she came back to the spot where she had been swimming. It was quiet here now, with even the birds silent. She shook off her unease and trudged forward, hesitating on the banks of the stream. She set her staff and notes to the ground, taking the moment to observe the area.

Mercy’s expression turned stern. It felt like no one except her was around here, but she wanted to be sure. “Hello?” She called once more, and she felt quite silly when she was met with that silence again. Clearly, she was alone but… She crossed her arms, fighting a sudden chill as she stepped forward, the warm day feeling cold for a long moment. She looked into the stream, almost disappointed to see herself. But again, she felt that feeling. As if someone was there. The reeds by the stream died and blackened before her very eyes, shocking Mercy, who stared with both a morbid fascination and horror.

She glared, and her angry expression was reflected by the water. “It’s very rude to hide and spy upon a goddess like this. Not to mention a bit cowardly,” she stated. But it did not stop the fact that she felt truly afraid. No response, and her anger faded slightly. Someone had to be there… After a moment she sighed, feeling very foolish for thinking that someone was wrong here. She would have to speak with Ana about this phenomenon that was occurring. Mercy took a step back, only to collide into a solid, masculine form.  

“My apologies, doc,” the raspy, deep voice said, it was said in a bit of a teasing tone. Everyone, mortal and immortal alike knew she was one of the patron goddesses of doctors. She favored them, and practically was one herself. But from him it sounded threatening. With a startled gasp, Angela whirled around and met death himself face-to-face. He was wraith-like in appearance, smoke billowing out from his form, and curling around the ground. He materialized completely in front of her, grass dying underneath his heavy boots. She might have been so shocked or afraid, or an odd mixture of the both, as she did not find the motivation to run.

“You’re Reaper.” She said, staring at him with mistrust. Ana had a whole lot to say about him, and Angela knew of his betrayal and fight with Soldier. He used to be loved by his friends and he had betrayed them all. She was concerned and wary with his presence, as everyone should be. If he was above-ground, it would mean nothing good for anyone. Where the Reaper was, death always certain to follow, and Angela wondered what his purpose was for leaving his kingdom. Mercy would not be intimated by the likes of him, and she stood tall, facing him directly. “Please step aside and let me on my way.”

She had feared he would threaten her in some way, but she was pleasantly surprised when he simply stepped out of her way, out of her personal space. “You’re a smart one, Mercy. Knew you’d know I was here.” He admitted, and she watched with caution as he walked the length of the stream, and watched as the plants died in his immediate vicinity. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What do you want?” She asked him bluntly, hastily retrieving her notes and staff from the ground while not taking her eyes of the Lord of the Underworld. It was such a strange scene to witness; his startlingly, ghostly figure walking around in the world of the living, and on such a bright day as well. She held her staff close to her chest, knowing that if he was here to harm her, that he’d be able to do it easily and overpower her. He was a killer. She was not. “Why were you watching me?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. And even his voice underneath that terrible mask sounded smoky and wispy, like it was a voice on the wind. “I heard you. Saw you. You come here a lot. Simply curious I guess, doc.” He was turned away from her, and appeared to be gathering various flowers from the ground, which immediately died in his grasp. Mercy did not like that at all.

“… About what?” She did not even want to consider that he had been watching her before today.

“That Life herself, surrounded by friends and lovely creatures could be as lonely and as bored as I. Dissatisfied.” Angela fell silent, righteous indignation wanting to compel her to disagree. He knew nothing about her, and was a no-good traitor to the rest of them. _Not true!_ But the goddess could not summon any words that would sound even a bit truthful. In these simple words, he had effectively dug into the secrets of her soul. She was content going where she was needed; healing and bringing life. But… she had a desire to find someone that would understand her and _love_ her. Genji was nice. Soldier was paternalistic. Pharah was her friend. But they were not what she desired.

“So you decide to take a walk in the sunlight?” She asked suspiciously, heat rising in her cheeks from the fact that she was apparently very easy to read. Even for Death to notice. Reaper finally turned back to her, blackened flowers in his grasp. She still didn’t run, intrigue and curiosity burning stronger than her fear of him. Logically, Mercy decided, thinking through the events that had transpired before her; if Reaper meant her harm he would have hurt her already. He had nothing to gain from attacking her. But she certainly still had reason to be on guard with him here.

“Sometimes, a god just needs a change of scenery,” he said in that same teasing tone, slowly approaching her. She did not move. “I mean you no harm. If you’d believe me,” he told her.  

“I cannot trust you,” she replied to him, but even as she said the words, her grip on her staff lessened and she lowered it slightly.

“Wise choice,” and he gave a short chuckle. “I destroy what you would create.” And he motioned her attention to the flowers in his hand. “It is my curse, you know. No amount of healing can change the fact that I am a dead man walking. Comes with the territory.” And he was… surprisingly more nonchalant about the whole thing than she would have expected. A bitter, jabbing, _odd_ sense of humor with his nihilistic and grim duties to the world.

She didn’t know why he was speaking with her, or why she felt a sudden stab of pity for the god in front of her. She knew the wise choice would have been to pass him and leave and pretend this exchange never happened. “Let me try again.” She knew somehow that he was staring at her underneath that mask. She swallowed and explained. “The flowers. I could not revive them earlier before. I would like… to try again.”

He did not reply to her, and wordlessly held out his black-clad hand that held some of the flowers. Angela cautiously stepped forward, eyes searching for any expression on his face even though she knew she would find none. He seemed to understand her reluctance and was immobile, unwilling to scare her off. She slowly reached her own hand out, fingertips gently brushing against the leather of his gloves. He was cold to the touch, but solid. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath as she touched the flowers. Her hand still in his, her other hand took ahold of her staff and Mercy concentrated on rebirth. Resurrection. Healing. Forgiveness. And after a few moments with nothing happening, the golden stream from her staff enveloped the flowers in his cold palm, and transformed them before both of their eyes. No longer were they withered buds, but rather a collection of magnificent roses and daffodils, overflowing so vibrantly that Reaper quickly scooped them up with his other hand so they would not fall to the ground.

Despite herself, Mercy gave a soft smile. She pulled back, cataloging these findings mentally. He held them awkwardly, like he was unsure of what to do with them. And for a moment, Angela wondered if they would fade in his icy grasp one more. But they stayed in these forms, and both Life and Death were silent as they examined the flowers. She spoke softly, “Rebirth is possible, given effort. Despite past events,” and she managed another glance towards him. He had done terrible things, she knew. He was both feared and respected by mortals for his power. But Mercy lived by a policy of forgiveness, knowing that everyone deserved second chances. Deserved to make up for past mistakes. Redemption.

“You are too good, Mercy.” He finally said, startling her out of her thoughts. And he sounded serious of all sudden. Solemn. “It will betray you one day when those who you have faith in will not be able to meet your expectations.” He slowly picked out the most beautiful and large of the flowers, and stepped closer to her. “I think these would be better off with you, doc.” And he took his offered flowers and gently placed them in her hair with a delicate gesture she hadn’t believed Death to be capable of. He arranged them as a gift to her, and she was stunned into silence when he let his hand linger upon her cheek, brushing a strand of her blonde hair aside. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest.

“Mercy! Are you out here, my dear?” A familiar voice broke through the forest. Ana. Whatever spell had them caught in this odd, tender, moment, had broken in an instant as Angela pulled away from him, quickly turning around in the direction where she had heard the older goddess’ voice.

“I will be right there, Ana!” Angela replied quickly, heat on her face and guilt quickly overcoming any emotions she had just experienced. Reaper was Death, and an evil entity. One she was not to be associated with under any circumstances.

Coldness left her in an instant, and when she turned back around, Reaper was completely gone from where he had stood, and Angela was still left alone.

_For the first time in so long… I felt no cold. No pain. Content. I need her. No one will get in my way._

_I watch you... because I am in love with you, sweet angel._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have read, commented or liked the story so far! To make things easier I've included a cast list for each god that the Overwatch character is based on. Reminder that not all the myths/relationships may be the same!
> 
> Reaper - Hades  
> Mercy – Persephone  
> Ana – Demeter  
> Soldier – Zeus  
> Pharah - Athena  
> Tracer – based on the social side of Dionysus + made up traits of fun and peace  
> Genji – Apollo  
> Hanzo – Artemis  
> Lúcio - Hermes  
> Widowmaker – Nyx/Thanatos – a mixture of them.  
> Doomfist – Ares  
> Symmetra – Harmonia  
> Junkrat – Eris  
> Reinhardt – Poseidon  
> Torbjörn – Hephaestus  
> Moira - Hecate  
> Zenyatta – Aphrodite

She was distracted as the two of them worked, Ana speaking with her about pleasant things, all while Mercy pretended to listen and nod at what she said. She was uncharacteristically divided from reality, only being able to think about what had transpired in the forest. 

“Angela, lovely flowers you have there. Did you create them?” She had abandoned her duties for just a moment, sitting at the table across from the other goddess. She had taken one out of her hair, playing with it delicately in her hand. The Reaper had touched her, and she had not been harmed in the slightest. He had been cold, but not painful when they had touched hands, contrary to the sharp talons of his gloves. He had been gentle. She twirled one of the roses distractedly, fingers dragging over the petals. Bright red, and possibly one of the loveliest roses she had seen. And Mercy was burning with scientific questions, of how she had managed to revive them when before they had remained dead.

She did not respond for a long moment. “Hmm?” She suddenly voiced, dragged out of her thoughts. “Oh yes,” she finally said, Ana’s question registering for her after a brief delay. “In a way, I suppose.” It was late afternoon by this point, almost approaching the evening, and at their table, Ana was treating Mercy to some tea. Even goddesses needed a refreshing beverage now and then, especially when it was laden with the finest herbs.

“Well, you’ve done a magnificent job,” the older goddess complimented her, and Mercy only smiled in return. Ana took a sip out of her own teacup, and Angela finally ripped her attention away from her own thoughts to give it to Ana. She would have panicked knowing that she had interacted with Reaper. It was said that she lost her eye to the minor goddess of death and slaughter, Widowmaker, who had sided with Reaper in his attempted coup so long ago. She would have worried, and Angela had already made the decision to not even mention what had happened. She worried already for Pharah, who constantly battled in men’s wars, always feuding with the other war god, Doomfist for influence. Angela was not going to be the one to give her more stress.

“Thank you!” Angela said, attempting to bring some normal cheer back into her voice. “It was… quite a surprise for me as well.” She set the flower down on the table carefully, taking her own tea. All she could think about was Reaper and his purpose for choosing to speak with her. It would drive her mad, because she craved the answer to problems, and when she could not find them… It was a disappointment, to say the very least.

“Interesting. Because just for a moment, I thought they might have been a gift from someone,” she stated knowingly, making Mercy hesitate for a long moment. Did she know? She stared at the other goddess, but there was no malicious intent or interrogation purpose in her gaze. It was simple fishing out of curiosity.

“Oh. No, I am afraid not,” she replied, forcing herself to remain calm. She had nothing to be guilty about. “Who would they be from?” She asked her.

“From what I have heard, I might have guessed Genji.”

“For Heaven’s sake!” She exclaimed, suddenly annoyed, “Not you too, Ana! We are just friends.” But from what Ana and Symmetra had told her, Mercy suspected that perhaps she was the only one who wanted to remain friends.

“He was respectful,” Ana suddenly said. “Spoke with me about you. He quite likes you.” And Angela… was not sure what to think about that. If Genji genuinely liked her… would it be unfair of her to not even give him a chance? Perhaps, once she got to know him better, she would be able to feel something for him as well. Reaper’s comments burned freshly in her mind, reminding her of her hidden weakness.  

“He did?” Genji had to have been serious about her, if he had taken the time and etiquette to speak directly to Ana, both her superior and even mother-figure. “What exactly did he say?” Angela pressed, curiously.

“He said, if given my permission and yours, of course,” she made sure to add. “He would be honored to pursue a relationship.” And Mercy couldn’t help the sudden smile that tugged at her lips. She was flattered, really. And she truly desired something special like Tracer had with her mortal lover, Emily. She was ever all she ever talked about nowadays, and Mercy was happy for her, but envious of the relationship she held. Of course, being with someone did not define one’s worth, but she craved it nonetheless. Ana chuckled, “He’s nice.” And there was that word again. Just nice. Did she really want ‘just nice?’ “But you don’t need my permission Angela. You’re a strong, grown goddess who’s very capable of making her own decisions.” Her smile only got wider at her praise. “You are my daughter just as much as Fareeha is, and it will be saddening to see you less.” The two smiled at each other, “But I do want to see you happy, and if anyone, Genji seems the best choice.”

She bowed her head in a nod, “Thank you, Ana. It means so much, really it does.” Would she really take this opportunity? She loved her work just as much, and if she was with Genji, or even more… It was not like she would be stopped from doing her duties anyway. If they were together, Genji would have to attend to his, and her to her own. It would not change much, except that she would have a partner. “… I might pursue it.” She finally decided in a rush of bravery and excitement. “If nothing else, I will try.”

“I am happy for you, Angela,” she said, reaching across the table to lay a hand on her arm.

“We should get word to him, right away.” Mercy said, unable to remove the smile from her face. Happiness just did not happen, and contrary to what Reaper said, she was happy! She knew it to be true. She had the best companions helping her at every turn, and a bright future ahead of her.  

“I thought you might have said that,” Ana replied, finishing her tea as she stood. Mercy stood with her, giving her a questioning look. “It is why I already summoned Lúcio before I came to find you today.”

And as if it were magic or incredibly well-timed, a rhythmic knock on their door sounded from outside, stopping Angela from inquiring about it further. Angela merely raised an amused eyebrow in Ana’s direction, and the other goddess shrugged in response. Mother knew best, was that famous saying, and she supposed it was true. Angela answered the door for Ana, and was met with the familiar, friendly face of the messenger god, Lúcio.

“Hey, hey!” He exclaimed, and it always seemed like he was on the move, either quickly exchanging messages between gods, or just dancing in his free time. It was said he had appropriated old Omnic technology with the help of his nymph friend, D.Va, in order to make his own job easier. He even looked comparable to the old rulers of Earth. “Mercy! How’s it hanging?” He asked.

“Very well,” she replied in turn. “How are you? And how’s D.Va?” She was turning out to be a real asset to Overwatch after all.

“Amazing!” He said. “She’s even impressed Soldier, and he’s considering making her immortal. Hana can’t wait!” It seemed like everyone was happy, and Angela would be one to join them very soon. “But man, oh man, am I excited for you, Mercy!” And he was such a great friend, anyone would have been grateful to be blessed by his presence. “You gotta tell me!” He looked around dramatically, and lowered his voice. “What’s your answer?”

She could only find it in herself to laugh. This whole situation resulted from just daily gossip among the gods after all. Her laughter faded slightly and she sobered quickly when she felt _that feeling_ again. Again, Reaper? She was the only one to notice, Lúcio looking at her expectantly and Ana clearing the table of tea to leave them to privacy. Why was he watching her still? “Would you tell Genji for me that he is welcome here any time? And that I would love to know him better?”

“Yes!” Exclaimed the god, “You two are gonna do great! I’ll get right on that for you! I’ll arrange a little date for you guys, sound good? Let you know the particulars.”

“Very.” She said, even when a sinking feeling overcame her, like there was an unsettling gaze locked directly on her. _Rage._ It felt furious. Her eyes skirted around Lúcio’s figure, attempting to see the being himself. It had to be him, it was like what she had felt before, but more menacing in nature. He was there, and for some reason, he was watching this entire, personal, exchange. Did Reaper not have his own duties to attend to rather than watch her? “Thank you again,” she said, feeling rather spied upon. “I owe you one,” she teased him.

“Yeah, yeah, everybody does,” he grumbled in playful annoyance. “Catch you guys later! We have to catch up at one point!” He started to move away, already moving fast and ready to speed it up. “Be back later with his response!” And he was already gone, moving inhumanly fast to cover distance. He really was one of the most important gods after all, ensuring communication was always open between everyone. Vital.

Feeling quite unnerved, she took one last glance around, expecting Reaper to materialize out of nowhere. He did not, but Mercy knew he was there anyway. She spared a glance to Ana, who had thankfully moved to a different room. It was starting to get dark now, the sun falling behind the clouds in the west. “Enough watching me,” she said to no one, standing tall and giving a hard look past the door. “This is none of your business.” And she proceeded to shut the door behind her. Ana said something to her once she reentered, but again her thoughts were back to Reaper. She took the remaining flowers from her hair and set them aside, wanting nothing to do with them. However, Mercy ended up saving the beautiful rose, unable to part with it, even though she knew she should not keep it. Soon enough, her new life would hopefully begin and Mercy could forget about today all together.

* * *

 

_Rage._

As soon as the messenger god had approached her dwelling, Reaper knew nothing good could come from it. He had remained hidden in the shadows as he usually did when coming into the above world, aside from appearing to Mercy earlier in the day. He had wondered what Lúcio wanted from his angel, but upon hearing their conversation, one he had not been meant to overhear, Reaper had been overcome with a deep, primal, _rage._

He watched her, and he felt back to his old self again. Angry and brutal, as everyone knew him to be. Genji. He suddenly hated the god more than he had ever hated anyone before; his anger boiling hot underneath to the point where he had gritted his teeth harshly under his mask. _She was going to accept Genji as her suitor._ The thought ate away at him again and again as he listened to how damn happy they all sounded. And why would they not? They were free to frolic in the light and associate themselves with gods and goddesses as beautiful as they were. They were able to laugh and joke and be with _her_.

Her. He wanted to look away, her pleasant smile and tone while speaking of her intent to be with Genji painful to look it. It was beautiful, but not meant for him. It hurt to watch this, but Reaper could not tear himself away. Hatred and pure jealousy kept him there, as he yearned to kill Genji Shimada with his bare hands. He wanted to murder and kill and tear into him, he who had Mercy’s affections.

_Rage._

If Mercy had been alone, and his anger blinding him, he knew without a doubt he would have stormed over to her and seized her. Amari was still there, and he would not just be able to take her with her there. The sweet angel was intelligent as always, smart as when he would watch her in the sunlight bringing life to the sick or injured out of jealousy and bitterness at first, followed by curiosity and then admiration. He froze suddenly, as she seemed to look directly at him. _Stop her_. She would be with Genji within days. _Grab her._ She spoke then, and her voice hit him like an arrow; sharp and piercing and accusatory. He found himself narrowing his eyes, and nearly took a step forward, which would have revealed him to her.

She closed the door, and therefore closed any connection. He stood there for a long time, before Reaper let out an inhuman snarl of anger, fists clenched tightly to the point where he would have drawn blood. If he bled. Dead men did not bleed. He disappeared and fell back towards his Hell. The Underworld. Because he had screwed it all up. He hadn’t moved fast enough, nor made his intentions clear to the goddess. She would not be his, and he would lose her.

He sat in silent contemplation for a long time on his black throne in the Underworld. Reaper was not lacking in resources or wealth down here; a dark, castle-like compound to match his personality. He envisioned what would have happened had he become the supreme god over Morrison. He envisioned how glorious his revenge would have been. Even Widowmaker avoided him these days, living most of the time out of the Underworld, while he was stuck here with the souls of the dead. He envisioned how it would be if Mercy was his wife, and lived with him down here. And he envisioned brutally killing all who stood in his way of that goal. It kept him sane.

He sat up suddenly, from his slouched position on his throne. _Rebirth is possible, given effort. Despite past events._ Her voice continually played in his mind, and try as he might, Reyes could not stop thinking about her. No. He would not lose her. He could not. She was the first thing in years that Reaper had felt passionate about, rather than plainly apathetic, annoyed, or enraged by. He had attempted to be gentle and to not frighten her.

_Rage._

But her fate had already been decided, and their cards dealt. Reaper had no more time to be nice. The time for playing nice was over, and if he had to play the evil villain in order to get what he wanted, he was more than willing to do so. If she hated him, it would still be better than her loving Shimada. He ignored the souls of his dead servants. They were not of good company anyway. With dark purpose in mind, Reaper summoned his powers, attempting to create. But not for just creative purposes. For trickery. One final gift for her. She could not get away.

* * *

 

Today was the day. Today Genji would be visiting and they would be talking about their future and what they wanted. Mercy was nervous of course, but she was also nervous because it had been two days since she felt the angry gaze on her. And nothing. She had not journeyed back to the forest, out of a sense inside of her telling her to stay put and safe. She did not feel safe around Reaper now, even if she had been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Ana had come and went by now, and very soon, Mercy would be moving on as well. Too many people in this world were suffering to just stay in one place forever. It was one of her favorites however, and she would miss it when the time came.

She did her best to focus on continuing her own research, warily attempting to record the plants in the surrounding area. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her soul. She loved it here, but she had a strange sense of anticipation. Perhaps it was for the best then, that she would be on her way after her meeting with Genji. She was busying herself with writing in her notes while waiting for him to arrive. She always wanted to expand her own knowledge of mortal medicine and plant usages. It made sense, after all.

She sighed, distracted, and set her notes back down on the table for what must have been the millionth time that morning. She felt restless, which was understandable. Her gaze wandered, and she only glanced out the window for a brief second, when something outside caught the doctor goddess’ eye.

“Goodness,” she muttered to herself, not thinking twice as she quickly stood and left the safety of her home, as the most interesting plant she had ever seen caught her eye. And that was the most important part. She had _never_ seen a plant like this before. It had to be the first of its kind. Mercy grabbed her basket that was filled with other plants and hurried to crouch down and examine the flower before her. It was not that far from the home, visible from its window, and she had no qualms or uneasy feelings about it.

It was right there in the meadow by itself, nothing else surrounding it. It was as if Angela was drawn to it by some kind of magic. But it was her own curiosity that led her to it. The flower was quite large; resembling a rose in a way, but a deep, rich, violet color rather than a red, or an orange. Its stem was jet black, and she could see several thorns coming up the side of it. It did not deter her, getting closer to it. It looked poisonous, but she had no idea what this plant was or what it could do. What was its medical purpose? It was breathtakingly beautiful to look at regardless, and Mercy gently reached forward to pluck it from the earth, careful to mind its thorns.

As soon as her fingertips brushed the flower, a deep rumble shook the earth and her hand retracted like she had been burned. The flower was ice cold to the touch, and Angela watched in horror as the ground split open in front of her, shaking so badly that even she was shaking. She fell backwards, basket spilling over and her plants fell dispersed on the ground.

Suddenly, sharp claws seized her around her middle, emerging from the new crevice and Mercy screamed. “Let go of me!” And attempted to shake off her would-be captor. Her wings spread out, attempting to let her glide back to safety, but the grip was tight and unrelenting as she struggled. “Ana! Genji!” She cried for help, gasping when she laid eyes on Reaper, whose sharp gloves scratched against her skin, ripping the bottom of her tunic as he tugged her down. Mercy attempted to fight back, clawing at the soil in an attempt to keep herself from being overpowered.

“He can’t save you!” Reaper snapped, raspy voice filled with anger and jealousy, and the pressure was gone suddenly, Mercy falling back. Black smoke curled around her, as his full figure appeared before her once more. He seized her once more in a strong grip, a better one than before, dragging her down and down. 

“Reaper!” She cried out, “You cannot do this! Stop!” But it was too late, for he had her tightly in his arms and dragged her down in the crevice he had come from, and Mercy saw the sunlight from above fading and fading. Her cries for assistance were muffled by the distance they fell from the surface; her screams stifled into silence when Death dragged Life to Hell and the split in the earth sealed by itself.

There was silence on the surface, the only sign of their struggle being the basket that was left abandoned.


End file.
